Pain Splattered Teardrops On My Shirt
by Noos
Summary: He doesn't know what he's doing there. He doesn't even know how he knows where her house is, but he does. His whole life has been turned upside down, or so he's been told. He doesn't actually remember much, so he can't confirm or deny those allegations, but ever since he woke up in that hospital bed, he feels like a fish out of water more often than not.
1. Chapter 1

**So, this is my first foray into tw fanfiction. I actually wasn't planning on writing it, but I did a tumblr set for this au and I had someone asking me if there was a fic to accompany it, and so here it is. **

**A warning though, it might be full of errors since I wrote the dialog while at work, and managed to develop everything at 1am, and got around to posting the fic at 4am, so let's just say my mind wasn't in top shape when I worked on it. Also, I know my beta has a lot on her plate right now, and I wanted to post the fic really fast, so I didn't send it to her for reviewing, I just went ahead and posted the thing. Just please, if you notice any mistakes, point them out and I'll love you forever.**

**One more thing, I don't pretend to know anything about memory loss or how it occurs, but for the sake of fiction, I took some liberties here, so you will notice the memory loss might be slightly selective. **

**Title from Ed Sheeran's "Give Me Love". Unbeta'ed. Hope you enjoy it!**

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He doesn't know what he's doing there. He doesn't even know how he knows where her house is, but he does. His whole life has been turned upside down, or so he's been told. He doesn't actually remember much, so he can't confirm or deny those allegations, but ever since he woke up in that hospital bed, he feels like a fish out of water more often than not.

The first week was the worst. He'd woken up disoriented and confused, a girl by his side. She'd been asleep, her head resting on the side of his bed by his thigh, her disheveled red hair - he's not sure it can qualify as red, but it's also not blonde, somewhere between the two, and he's still not sure what that color is called - tickling him slightly, her hands holding on to his like dear life. He remembers her waking up as soon as she'd felt him stir, shooting up like she'd never been asleep, her green eyes wide and disbelieving as she repeated his name over and over again like he was the most amazing sight in the world. He also remembers her face crumpling when she'd realized he didn't know who she was. He remembers feeling his heart squeeze a little at the hurt that seemed to suddenly consume this stranger, her red-rimmed eyes locking onto his one last time before she'd suddenly ran away from his room.

Not two minutes after she'd left, his father had barged into his room, and relief flooded Stiles like a tidal wave. His dad hugged him so tight, Stiles almost couldn't breathe, but he didn't care. His mind felt cluttered and his head was throbbing, and he'd missed his dad. He looked older, but he was familiar and safe, and Stiles felt like a little kid again.

His dad showing up proved to be the only beacon of light in his world of darkness. The beautiful redhead - Lydia, he'd later come to know, and her hair is not exactly red - didn't come back that first week, and Stiles found himself strangely worried about her. It didn't make any sense, but alot of things didn't make sense either.

More people kept stopping by to see him, only to leave looking shattered knowing he couldn't remember them. He couldn't handle seeing so many strangers looking so sad because of something he couldn't control. So, he eventually broke down and asked his dad not to let any more people in to see him, especially after the tan boy with the sad look on his face - Scott, his father told him - had come to see him for the fifth time, and left looking so desperate, Stiles almost wanted to punch himself in the face for not knowing who this boy was.

It wasn't until he was allowed to go home that he'd found himself thinking about these strangers more and more, missing them all. He couldn't explain this connection he felt to them, but he knew it was there. So he'd asked the only person he could about it, his dad.

It took some time for his dad to decide he was ready for it, that he was truly ready to learn about his past, but eventually he'd told him all about the world they lived in, all about werewolves and kanimas and wolfsbane, all about banshees and hunters and betas, and all about the werewolf pack he was part of, a pack that was strangely enough made up of more humans than werewolves. He took comfort in the fact that his dad seemed even more confused than he was.

He knew his dad kept in touch with his friends - strangers, how could he ever think of them as friends when he didn't even know them - so Stiles told him they could start visiting again if they wanted.

And they did. He didn't expect them to, but they did. They came all together, parental units in tow, something he couldn't exactly understand seeing as they weren't kids who needed adult supervision anymore. Lydia avoided his eyes like the plague, but on the rare occasions their eyes did meet, her green ones would water slightly and it felt like he was being punched in the gut every damn time. Scott sat right next to her, and the way their arms brushed, Lydia's fingers clutching at his sleeve every few minutes, Stiles knew they were heeding strength from one another. The brunette, Allison, and the curly haired kid, Isaac, sat on the other couch, both looking worse for wear. Their parents had vanished into the kitchen along with his dad and another man with darker skin and surprisingly clear eyes. Derek.

They barely talked, and the silence was so suffocating, Stiles had to leave the room. They left soon after, and Stiles felt a wave of sadness and relief wash over him at the same time.

He started going through stuff in his room after that, hoping to trigger some memory or another, but nothing ever came. He found some photos, most of him and Scott, some of him and Lydia, and some of the entire pack. The word still sounded weird even in his head. He'd left the photos by his bedside table, taking the time to look at them every night, hoping for some memory to creep into his consciousness. There was one picture in particular that he wanted to remember so badly; he recognized his living room, so he knew the picture was taken at his house. Allison was sitting on the couch, sandwiched between Scott and Derek. She was kissing Derek's cheek, and he looked so put out to be there it was almost comical. On the other side, Scott was holding her hand, his head thrown back in laughter. Sitting on the floor in front of them was Lydia right next to Stiles, holding his hand and looking up at him with the biggest smile on her face as he chewed on a mouthful of what he could only assume was popcorn. Isaac was nowhere to be seen, so Stiles assumed he'd taken the picture. No matter how much he stared at the figures though, wishing he could remember, nothing happened.

The night they all came over to his house for the first time was easily the most uncomfortable in his life. Which is why Stiles couldn't understand what he was doing right now, standing in front of Lydia's bedroom door. The last time they were together, they were barely able to look each other in the eye, let alone have a conversation.

Before he can think it through one more time, he knocks on her door.

"I'm decent," her muffled voice comes yelling back, and it's enough to send a chill up his spine. He's frozen and can't seem to move. "Mom?" He hears her call again when he doesn't answer. "You can come in," she tries again.

Stiles finally snaps out of it, and starts to move backwards, turning to go, but just as he takes the first step, he hears the door swing open and Lydia gasp. He doesn't realize he's turned again until he sees the shocked look on her face, her eyes wide and her lips quivering slightly. They stare at each other for a few seconds, and Stiles takes a moment to truly look at her. She looks tired, bags under her eyes, her hair piled on top of her head in a messy bun. She's wearing an oversized red hoodie that looks so strangely familiar, he can swear it's his, with black cotton leggings. Her feet are bare, and Stiles thinks no girl can look more beautiful than Lydia in that moment.

"Hi," she manages to get out, snapping him once again back to reality.

"Hi," he replies, awkwardly waving her way. He cringes slightly, and she has to lower her head to hide the small smile that takes over her features. She looks back up, and they stare at each other for a few more seconds before he finds his voice again. "Sorry, um, your mom let me in." She nods and before she can speak, he's talking again. "At least, I think it was your mom, since, you know, memory loss and all. But she seemed to know me and mentioned something about how happy she was to see me back here, so..." He scratches the back of his head, suddenly very interested in the pattern on her door.

"Oh, yeah, of course," she rambles, and Stiles is slightly relieved to see she's just as nervous as he feels. "I mean, the last few months before your accident we spent all our time at eachother's places, nights included." She winces at her words, because Christ, she just mentioned his accident and she's talking about them sleeping together when he doesn't even know her, what is wrong with her, but Stiles gives her an easy smile and she feels some of the tension leave her shoulders.

"We did?" Stiles asks, because he can't not ask, because he's Stiles, and he wants to remember, and this beautiful girl just mentioned them sleeping in the same place, possibly in the same room, and he'd be an idiot not to ask.

Lydia feels a blush creeping up her neck. "Um, yeah, well, us and the rest of the pack. Sometimes we'd sleep over here, sometimes at your place, and then other times at Scott's or the Argents'. Never at Derek's though, seeing as the man doesn't own any furniture." She's rambling again and she's never felt so nervous, and it's Stiles' turn to hide the smile that's threatening to take over his face.

"Oh," he manages to choke out, and seriously Stilinski, that's the best you can come up with?

"Yeah," Lydia continues and thank god for that. "It was mostly for protection, especially with other packs dropping by every so often, you know, safety in numbers and all." She rolls her eyes at that last part, and Stiles can't help notice how cute she looks.

"And our parents were okay with that?" He says before he can do anything stupid like tell her.

"Oh, yeah," she starts. "Well, my mom's always been oblivious to the world, and Mr. Argent is a hunter so he's always known about the pack. Scott's mom found out eventually and seeing as she agreed to harbor in another underage werewolf, it was safe to assume she was okay with it. Your dad was the last to find out, mostly because you wanted to protect him from everything, but eventually you realized he had to know. Although, it did take him some time to accept it, but he seems okay with it now, I think. Anyway, the point is, they understand pack dynamics and sleepovers are pack dynamic, so they're fine with it." Lydia rolls her eyes again, and it almost looks painfully familiar. "Sorry, um, do you want to come in?" She says after a minute. He's taken aback by the shift in conversation, although he shouldn't be, especially that this is why he came here in the first place.

"Thanks," he mutters, following her into her room.

"Make yourself at home," she says, closing the door behind him, then going to stand awkwardly in the middle of the room, and Stiles can tell she won't make herself comfortable until he's comfortable.

He looks at the bed and is tempted to just plop down on it, but seeing as this is his first time here, or at least the first time he can remember, he opts for her desk chair instead. He flips it, though, so the back is now the front, and straddles the chair, resting his elbows on the backrest.

Lydia moves to stand against her dresser, watching Stiles as he takes in her room.

"I like this," he says, pointing at a stuffed grey wolf on her bed, mostly because he can't stand the silence anymore.

Lydia's eyes widen and water just slightly, but she takes a steadying breath to calm herself and Stiles wants to punch himself in the face.

"Are you okay?" He asks, an overwhelming worry for this girl taking over him once again.

"Sorry, yeah, I'm fine," she mumbles, meeting his eye for just a second before turning to look anywhere else.

"I know I don't remember you and all, but unless your emotions work a different way, I'm pretty sure that almost crying qualifies as you not being okay." He doesn't mean to push, but he can't help it.

"Sorry, I'm okay, I promise," she says, and Stiles has the urge to tell her to stop apologizing so much, but he can feel her about to say more so he keeps quiet instead. "It's just that this is always where you used to sit when you first started coming by my place," she smiles sadly.

"When I first started coming by?" Stiles asks trying to ignore that same sadness overtaking him.

"Yeah, well, once you got used to the room and the house, you plopped down on my bed every chance you got," She says, her smile growing and her eyes glowing like she was remembering something specific, and Stiles feels almost jealous.

"Charming," he laughs, self-deprecating as ever.

She laughs louder this time, and Stiles' own grin widens, proud he's the reason behind it.

"You were," Lydia insists. "Also, that wolf is something that you got me. Well, you and Scott. To keep me safe, that's what you told me." Stiles can feel another memory assaulting her, but this time he smiles, too.

They stay quiet for a few seconds because neither knows what to say, and things start to feel awkward again.

"So, did yo-"

"Can you help me remember you guys?" Stiles says suddenly, interrupting Lydia.

"What?" She asks, a dumb look on her face.

"I was- um, sorry, you do-" Stiles stutters for a moment before he finally gathers the courage to voice what he's thinking. "You can totally say no, but I like how you talk to me about stuff, about how it used to be. Somehow it feels like maybe I can make myself believe I remember it. So can you help me remember more?" He gets out all in one breathe, afraid if he'd stop for any reason, he might not be able to continue.

Lydia opens and closes her mouth like a fish, not sure she heard right. "Yeah, um, totally, sure," she says before he can change his mind. He nods, and there's the awkward silence again.

"So, um, whenever you're free, just, I'm assuming you have my number, so call or text or whatever if you have time," Stiles rambles getting up to leave.

"Oh."

"What?" He stops and turns around to look at her.

"Well, I was thinking, maybe I could start right now, if you're free," She gets out, almost shy.

"Oh."

"What?" She asks and she wants to laugh because she'll be damned if this isn't the most awkward conversation in the history of conversations.

"That would be great. I actually wanted it that way, but I was worried you wouldn't be up for it," he gets out, a hopeful look on his face.

"Of course I'm up for it," she replies all too quickly, and she almost wants to bang her head against the wall because she's scared her eagerness will scare him away.

Stiles slowly walks back into the room. He looks at the desk chair but then makes his way towards her bed and sits on the edge.

Lydia can barely hide the grin on her face. "You can relax, you know," she says feeling herself relax as well at this gesture, knowing the full weight of what Stiles just did.

He's telling her he's ready, and that he truly wants to remember her. Her wants to remember them all, she has to remind herself, because this is not just about her, but she feels a secret thrill knowing that Stiles chose to come to her and no one else.

He smiles and pulls himself up on the mattress until his back bumps against the headboard. "Thanks."

"So," she starts, and he can feel the excitement bubbling in her voice. "First things first, Scott. Pack leader, werewolf extraordinaire, he's like a puppy you wanna hug every chance you get. Except that sometimes he grows fangs and stuff, but whatever. He's also your best friend." She stops, giving him a second to process.

"Yeah?" he asks, remembering the million pictures he found of the two of them, some as far back as when they were five or six. He remembers them smiling or laughing in almost every picture and it's not hard to believe that this boy is his best friend.

"Yeah. Scott's been your best friend probably since before you were even born. You'd die before you let anything happen to him." Lydia frowns a little, and Stiles can feel a memory clouding her vision, something more painful than the ones before. "You actually did nearly die, more than once, to save him." That explains the look. "He'd return the favor any chance he gets. I don't think I've gone a day I haven't seen you two together. Sometimes I'm not even sure you're two different entities." The bubbliness is back in her voice, and there's a quiet fondness there, as well.

"That sounds kinda weird," Stiles says, smiling and furrowing his brow all at once.

"You would think!" Lydia smiles wider. "But everyone's accepted the fact that you two come as a package deal. You still give eachother space for important things like showers and girl time and oth-"

"Girl time?" Stiles interrupts, eyes widening. "Wait, I had a girlfriend?"

"Um, no, not exactly," Lydia says, and Stiles thinks he imagines the blush on her face. "Scott though, him and Allison are in this weird on/off thing and sometimes Isaac is involved and sometimes not and now I'm not even sure if it's a threesome or a triangle anymore," she rambles and a disgusted look crosses her features.

"Well, who wouldn't wanna be around that," Stiles laughs.

Lydia chuckles and he grins wider.

"This is actually why you and I were practically joined at the hip the last few months," Lydia continues, a bit awkwardly. "I mean there's always the option to hang out with Derek, but in time you'll learn that everything's a better option than hanging out with Derek."

"Wait, um, did- do we not like Derek?" Stiles asks and he stops for a second to wonder when the I became a We.

"Oh no, no hate there at all, he's pack after all," Lydia states matter-of-factly. "Derek's just difficult. He's been through hell and back, so he's earned it. I mean his last girlfriend turned out to be a psycho vindictive human-sacrificing bitch." This time, it's anger on Lydia's face as she touches her neck lightly, and Stiles notices for the first time the faint pink scar. A sudden anger overtakes him, but before he can think about it, Lydia's talking again. "He's just not the easiest guy to be around. But no matter how much he pretends not to, Derek cares about us. Alot."

"And he lives alone?" Is all Stiles manages to get out to stop himself from dwelling on the anger.

"Now, yes. For a while there, his sister Cora - a werewolf, too, you like her - lived with him." Stiles can swear he feels a hint of jealousy in Lydia's tone. "But she's skipped town since. There was also Peter, the original alpha, but Derek killed him and became the alpha. Before being killed, though, Peter tried to turn me and failed. He did however develop a connection between me and him that allowed him to manipulate me to bring him back from the dead, and I did, only he came back weaker and decided to become a good guy for a while. But now he's back to his old ways, so he's evil again," Lydia stops to take a deep breath.

"I'm reconsidering that whole getting my memory back thing, to be honest," Stiles quips and Lydia laughs. He can't explain the pride he feels every time he makes her laugh.

"I can stop if it's too much for you to ta-"

"I'm fine, I'm kidding, I'm actually quite enjoying this," he interrupts before she can get any ideas. "My life feels like a supernatural television series." Lydia laughs again, and Stiles grins back, their eyes meeting again. She looks so pretty when she laughs. "So what about the rest?"

"Well, aside from being two thirds of a freaky hybrid ménage-a-trois, Allison and Isaac are pack, too. They protect us in their own ways."

"Cool. And do we get along with them?" Again with the We.

"Oh yeah," Lydia smiles. "Along with being an amazing huntress, Allison's my best friend and one of yours, too," she continues, nodding his way. "And seeing as Isaac lives with Scott, you two have made your peace and get along quite well, actually."

"And Isaac's a werewolf?" Stiles tries to picture the curly haired boy turning into some wild beast. Nope. Not possible.

"Yes, he is. Derek turned him, but then he switched loyalties and became a member of Scott's pack."

"Wait, they can do that?" Stiles raises his eyebrows.

"We were just as surprised then as you are now. But apparently they can."

"Nice."

"Yeah."

Silence settles again as Stiles contemplates his next question. "And, um, what about you?" he asks because he can't hold it in anymore.

"Me?" Lydia's suddenly more uncomfortable than she's ever been.

"Yeah, um. I, um, I mean, were we close?" Stiles stutters out.

"We, um, sort of." Stiles' pleased to hear she sounds just as nervous. "Well, you decided I was the one for you in third grade," Lydia gets out before she can stop herself and her cheeks turn into an unnaturally red color.

"I did?" He isn't really sure he's surprised, even though he cannot actually remember it, and this in itself confuses him more than anything else.

"You did," she replies before she can think it through, and suddenly she's hit with the memory of another time they used those exact same words, and she almost wants to cry.

_When I kissed you, you held you breath._

"And you? Did you feel the same?" Stiles asks, snapping Lydia out of it. She considers lying for a second. But this is her chance at a clean slate. No more lying. No more denying how she really feels.

"I did," she lets out truthfully. "It just took me a little longer to realize it."

Stiles knew it was coming. He saw it in her eyes the day he woke up at the hospital. He saw it again that day she came over to his house. He saw it in all those pictures he looked at for nights in a row. But somehow hearing her say it makes it all the more real, and he realizes he's relieved, because this is exactly what he wanted to hear from her. That this stranger for whom he cares so much without understanding it, cares for him too, in equal measures, and maybe even more.

They stare at each other for a few second before he finally clears his throat. "So, um, we were together?"

"Not exactly, no." Lydia looks nervous. "I never got around to telling you how I felt."

"Why not?"

"Because I never fully let myself accept it until you had your accident and I nearly lost you." She lowers her gaze, fighting tears and nearly choking on her last words. She shouldn't be telling him all this. He doesn't remember her, so she knows this must be so very uncomfortable for him, hearing a complete stranger confess her love for him, but she still can't bring herself to shut up. "Well, you don't remember anything anymore, so in some ways, I've already lost you." She looks back up at him, a sad look on her face, and Stiles fights off the urge to go to her. Silence settles for a few minutes, but this time, it's Lydia who breaks it. "I'm sorry, I'm making you uncomfortable."

"No, no, it's fine, I-" Stiles starts to say, but he's interrupted again.

"I just was never honest with you before, and I was so mean to you, and I was just a bitch most of the time," she says laughing humorlessly. "And I don't know, I don't expect anything, I just think if this has taught me anything, it's to always be honest, because everything can be taken away from you any second." Stiles is looking at Lydia and Lydia is looking anywhere other than at Stiles. "This has been sufficiently awkward, so I'm gonna quit while I'm ahead."

"Please don't," Stiles hears himself say before he can stop. "As awkward as this is, I don't remember who I am, so anything helps at this point. Besides, if what you're saying is true, then I've spent eight years in love with you, and if I want to get back to that, you have to keep talking to me."

Lydia feels the wind get knocked out of her. Did she just hear him right?

"You want to get back to being in love with me?" Lydia asks, the disbelieving tone back in her voice. The look on her face is a mix of hope and so much love that Stiles feels his heart squeeze again. "But, you don't, you don't even know me," she stutters.

"I used to. And if I want to understand who I was, then I have to get my old feelings back. And if I spent eight years waiting for you, then you are a big part of those feelings." He can't really understand the sudden boldness that's taken him, but he's glad for it, and their eyes lock again.

"I, I don't know what to say."

"Wait." Stiles is hit with a thought and he prays to anyone who listens for it to be false. "I didn't eventually move on, did I?"

The sadness that washes over Lydia makes Stiles think he did, and he wants to punch himself again. Christ, how could this one girl affect him so much?

"Um. I don't know. Honestly, at one point I thought you did, or maybe convinced myself you did. You were always with Cora, and I don't know, you were never particularly affectionate, but you weren't chasing me around as much anymore." She just looks so sad and confused. "Scott says you didn't move on though, he says you just changed tactics and decided to give me space so I could figure out my feelings for you," she continues, a small smile finally gracing her features again.

"Well, you just said you did, so I must've been a smart guy." The relief that washes over him is like a tidal wave and he feels himself sink further into the mattress.

Lydia smiles.

"You were. So smart it was sometimes scary."

"Yeah well, seeing as you have a pile of big ass books with words like astrophysics and advanced calculus, I'd say you look pretty smart yourself." He points to her desk and her grin widens as she's assaulted by another memory.

_That was really smart._

"I am."

"Yeah, you look like the type of smart that could win a Nobel prize or something."

Lydia almost chokes, but she manages to straighten herself up, looking at him with eyes so wide, he's almost scared.

"What?" He asks, suddenly panicking.

"Nothing." Lydia's eyes regain their normal size, but she still looks like she's been hit on the head with a baseball bat. "It's just, we've had this conversation before."

"We did?"

"Yes. We were at a school dance, and you were trying to get me to dance with you. Back then I was a royal bitch to you." Lydia cringes at the memory.

"So you didn't dance with me." Stiles is inexplicably disappointed.

"Actually, I did."

And now he is inexplicably happy.

"Yeah." Lydia insists. Their eyes meet for a few more minutes, and this time it's less stuffy and more comfortable than before, until Stiles suddenly straightens up.

"So, I'm- I should probably get going. I wouldn't want to worry my dad," he says getting up.

"Yeah, yeah, definitely," Lydia says, following suit and walking him outside her room. She doesn't want him to go. But if she tells him now, she'll probably only get him to run faster.

"So, um, thanks for this, I hope we can do it again." He might be pushing his luck, but he doesn't care.

"Yeah, yeah, totally, whenever you want," she smiles as they walk down the stairs. "Just text, or I'll text you, whatever."

"Actually, can we do something this week?" Stiles asks coming to a stop by the front door. "Together, with the rest of our frien- err, pack."

Lydia's eyes go wide again but she quickly recovers jumping at the invitation.

"Yeah, sure, of course, I'll plan something for tomorrow or the day after or something."

"Maybe not a sleepover, I don't think I'm ready for those yet," Stiles says.

"No, of course, maybe a movie night or something."

She opens the door for him.

"Yeah, that sounds good." Stiles turns to her, standing on her porch. He doesn't want to leave.

"We can have it at your place if you want, that way you can kick us out if it becomes too overwhelming for you," Lydia says and Stiles smiles.

"Sounds even better." He lets out a chuckle. They stare at eachother again. They've been doing alot of that, haven't they? "So, I'm gonna..." Stiles says pointing towards his jeep.

"Yeah," Lydia quips awkwardly, then a thought hits her. "Hey, are you good to drive home?"

"Oh, yeah, totally, dad has been driving me all over town to remind me of where everything is and how to get home, so I'm good." She nods. "Bye." He smiles one last time turning away, not knowing what to do with his hands.

He's a few steps away from his jeep when she calls out for him. "Hey, Stiles?"

"Yeah?" He turns and is surprised to see her right in front of him.

"I know this is really weird considering you barely know me, but could you text me when you get home?" She rambles barely taking time to breathe. "It's just something we used to do, and it will put my mind at ease knowing you're safe at home."

"Yeah sure, sure. I have your number, right?" Stiles says, fishing his phone out of his pocket.

"Yeah, um, it's under Lyds."

"Lyds."

"Yeah."

They lock eyes again, this time both smiling shyly. She is so much shorter than he is without her heels. She looks even more nervous than before, and he thinks she might be stalling, but he could also be deluding himself.

Lydia counts to five in her head and before she can think about it, she gets on the tip of her toes and kisses Stiles' cheek.

She quickly walks back up her porch, too scared to see the look on his face.

"Night Lydia," he calls, touching his cheeks and grinning to himself.

"Night Stiles," she calls back, turning to look at him.

They share one last smile before he gets in his jeep and drives off.


	2. Chapter 2

**So, I wrote another thing. I can't even believe I actually did this. It's the first time I even try anything other than a one shot. I want to write more of this, but I'm really scared my updates won't be regular. So here's the deal: I won't be calling this a chapter fic. I'll definitely be writing more, but I'll make sure each new entry I post won't end with a cliffhanger, and it will only relate to what's happened in previous entries. That way, if at any moment I feel like I have to stop this, then it won't feel like unfinished story. Think of it as a collection of one shots in the same verse.**

**Also, I just realized something. It's been established on the show that werewolves cannot appear in pictures. For the sake of this story, werewolves look absolutely normal in pictures.**

**I'm nervous about posting this. I hope you like it. Feedback is more than welcome! Unbeta'ed.**

* * *

_Got home safe. Thanks for today. And sorry for just showing up out of nowhere._

Lydia stares at the lit screen having a hard time believing Stiles actually texted her. She hasn't stopped thinking about their conversation since he left her house, and that was over forty minutes ago. Forty seven to be exact, but who cares. It's not like she's counting or anything. Okay, so maybe she's counting. Don't judge. The love of her life just came to see her after losing any and all memories of her and then shutting her out for over a month. So yeah, she has the right to be a little shaken up. Wait, did she just think of Stiles as the love of her life?

"Ughh," Lydia groans throwing her phone across the room and plopping down face first on her bed. She's tempted to scream into her pillow, but now is not the time to prove her banshee powers, and to a pillow of all things.

Stiles had texted her ten minutes after leaving her place, and she's yet to reply. She knows she should, but she can't bring herself to. What is she supposed to say, "you're welcome, you can show up on my doorstep anytime, wink wink"?

This time she does scream into her pillow. It's okay, linen can take it.

She thinks maybe she dreamed the whole thing. That maybe she wanted him to want to remember her so bad that she actually imagined him coming to her house and spending time with her in her room. Oh god, it was just a dream, wasn't it?

She pulls herself off her bed so fast, she nearly gets dizzy, and sprints across her room to pick up her phone.

_Got home safe. Thanks for today. And sorry for just showing up out of nowhere._

She breathes a sigh of relief. She's not crazy. Stiles is real. Stiles wants to try to go back to the way things were.

She snuggles further into his hoodie - did she imagine it, or did it look like he recognized it? - and smiles to herself. She hides half her face into it, so the collar reaches her nose, and she smiles wider. So she might look a bit like a creeper, standing alone in her room, grinning like an idiot and sniffing random articles of clothing, but whatever, she misses Stiles and it smells like him and it's not like it's his boxers.

She should text him back. But there's something she needs to do first. She picks up her phone and dials the number that has easily taken top spot on her most-dialed list as of late.

Scott answers on the second ring.

"Hey, Lydia."

Somehow, his voice has become one of the most soothing sounds to her. Whenever she's feeling stressed or overwhelmed - which let's face it, ever since Stiles had his accident has been a daily thing - she just gives him a call, and just talking to him makes it all better. Maybe because he is such a nice guy, possibly because they've become such close friends, but mostly because he is such a big part of who Stiles is. And she is such a big part of who Stiles is. And big parts of who Stiles is need to stick together. Period.

"Hey, wolfboy." She hears him groan into his phone, and it's enough to put a smile on her face. "I'm not interrupting anything important, am I?"

"Not really, Isaac and I are just playing video games."

"Playing video games, huh? Is that what kids are calling it these days?"

"Jesus, Lyds." He groans again and she smiles wider into her phone. One of her favorite pastimes is messing with Scott. "Sometimes I wonder why I even talk to you."

"So, Stiles came over today." She knows she shouldn't drop a bombshell like that, but she's tired of small talk and she just wants to say it out loud, because maybe that will cement the reality of the situation in her mind.

"WHAT?" He yells into the receiver. She hears the sound of something crashing on the other end followed by Isaac yelling "Ouch!" and somehow she knows Scott dropped his controller on Isaac's head.

"Yeah," she says in a small voice because she's still not sure it's real.

"Stiles came over? As in Stiles came over to your place? Our Stiles?"

"No he came over to the supermarket and I thought it important to tell you," she deadpans frustrated. "Yes, he came over to my place, why else would I be telling you?"

"Well, what did he want?" Scott asks, and she can hear the hope coloring his tone.

"To remember us." They're both quiet for a few minutes as they both process what Lydia just said. "Scott? You still here?"

"Yeah, yeah," he says. "I'm just trying to wrap my head around it. I spent so much time forcing myself to stop hoping he'll come around, to accept the fact that my best friend in the world is gone for good, that I'm scared of actually letting myself believe there may be a chance."

"I know," she sighs, because she really does know. This is mostly why she and Scott have been talking so much lately, to help one another accept the fact that Stiles may never come back, not really. But now there's a chance he might want to, and it's the scariest thing they've faced, and they've faced some pretty terrifying shit.

"Are you okay?" Scott asks and Lydia smiles because here she was worried Scott would be upset Stiles came to her first, and instead he was checking up on her. Dammit, she loves this kid.

"I'm good. It was a bit awkward at first, but once we got to talking, it was alright." There's a moment of silence as he waits for her to continue. "He's still the same Stiles, Scott."

"I know."

"No Scott, you have no idea how much. The things he said and did, it was like I was remembering things, it was that close to how it happened in the past." She sighs. "I'm not making sense. I just don't know how to explain it."

"It's okay, Lyds," Scott says, and she knows he understands. "It's not meant to be easy."

"He wants to see us. Like hang out, all of us together. Could you, just, can you come over?"

"Yeah, of course, I'll be over in twenty."

"Bring Isaac with you. I'll text Allison and Derek. We gotta start planning."

"See you in a few," Scott says before hanging up.

"Bye.

She stands in the middle of her room for a few more minutes thinking back to this afternoon, worry still weighing her down. She takes a deep breath, reads his text again, and this time she presses the reply button.

_I'm glad you came around. I'm thinking we can do movie night Friday if you're up for it. Let me know._

Send.

* * *

He chickens out and they don't do movie night on Friday. Instead, it's tonight, on Saturday night of all nights (he doesn't know why he thinks of it as Saturday night of all nights, because really, his nights have consisted mostly of him playing twenty questions with his dad - the memory loss edition - and then staring at a bunch of pictures until he falls asleep, so it's not like he had a semblance of a social life or anything to speak of.)

It's four in the afternoon and Stiles has been pacing nervously around the house for three hours now, doing chores to occupy his time and take his mind off things, but nothing works. He can't stop thinking about tonight, and Lydia, and what if Scott doesn't want to be his friend anymore, and what if Isaac and Allison and Derek think the new him isn't as good as the old Stiles, and what if they don't want him in the pack anymore?

It's absolutely ridiculous because he's in a fucking pack and he doesn't even remember it and he shouldn't be so worried about something he doesn't even remember, for Christ's sake.

But he is.

He towel dries the last of the dishes and heads upstairs to his room. He stands in front of the wall where he's now stuck a few of the pictures he found, and he just stares at them. He looks at the one of the pack sitting in his living room again and he sighs.

He knows tonight probably won't be anything like that picture, but he still hopes it might be.

He takes a peak at the alarm clock by his bedside. 16:04. He sighs once more before going to take a shower.

* * *

They pull up Stiles' driveway at 8 sharp thanks to Lydia's flawless planning skills. It's just her and Scott for now.

When the pack came by her house after she called Scott, they talked about what happened and how they would go about things from then on. They'd finally agreed that what drove Stiles away the last time was that it probably felt like he was being ambushed.

So this time, even though he asked for them all to be here, they would ease him into it. Scott and Lydia would get there first, and then when it feels like things are settling, one of them would shoot Allison a text, and she'd drop by with Isaac and Derek in tow.

Chris and Melissa wanted to be there as well, but Scott had put his foot down and told them to be patient. Although, Lydia's pretty sure they'll both be making an appearance later tonight, especially since Melissa and the Sheriff have been by each other's sides more often than not as of late.

"Are you ready?" Scott asks snapping Lydia out of her thoughts.

She looks at him and nods slowly. She knows that even though he's trying to keep a straight face, he's just as worried as she is.

"We're gonna be okay," she tells him. She puts her hand over his on the steering wheel, trying to ease the tension out of it. "He wants this," she continues and he relaxes a bit, letting go of the wheel and squeezing her hand in return.

"Here goes nothing," he whispers opening the door and getting out of the car. Lydia does the same, and then straightens her shirt as Scott gets the bag of groceries from the backseat.

She's dressed in an oversized black knit sweater with grey skinnies and flats. Her hair is braided down her back and she's got no makeup on. She spent half the day fretting over what to wear, but then she decided to wear something comfortable because even though he might not remember it, she knew Stiles liked it best when she was dressed down.

She stands frozen, staring at the house for a few seconds before Scott joins her, bag in hand. She looks at him in time to see him let out a nervous breath.

He's more worried than she is, and he's got every right to be. After all, Stiles had come to her, and they'd had one slightly awkward but entirely welcome conversation before this. But this is the first time Scott will be seeing his best friend since the last time they were here, which turned out to be a disaster. They had come with such high hopes and had left with nothing but despair. Which is why she can't blame Scott if he might be thinking of backing out of this. She's got half a mind to turn away and run herself because when exactly was it that alpha packs and kanimas became the least of their worries?

But then something urges her to looks up to where she knows Stiles' room is, and she notices him standing by the window. Seeing him makes this so much more real and she has to physically stop herself from taking a step back. He's looking at her and she realizes just how much she misses him. She misses his easy laugh. She misses the stupid sarcastic comments he threw in every chance he got. She misses his endless supply of plaid shirts. Which, coincidentally, he's wearing one today. The green one she likes best.

He smiles and waves nervously and she can't help the small smile she returns. He's just as awkward as ever and it tugs at her heartstrings.

"It's too late to back out now," she says snapping Scott out of his own stupor. He looks at her and then turns to where she's looking. Stiles sends an easy smile Scott's way before disappearing into the room.

"Let's go get our boy back," Scott says heading to the front door. She doesn't miss the stupid grin on his face.

* * *

He's staring at the pictures again, trying to figure out who the statuesque blonde standing next to that dark giant of a man is when he hears a car pull up his driveway.

They're here. There's no backing out now. Not that he wants to. Sure, he had his moment of doubt yesterday, but he's ready to get his old life back. He's still got at least two years of high school left (three, if they force him to repeat his year, but he only missed the last three weeks of the school year and he and his dad have been getting some extra study time to make sure he's still on top, and they've been pleasantly surprised to learn that that part of his memory seems to be perfectly intact), so it's not the time to try to start a new life. Besides, even if he wants to move on and forget about them, something won't let him. There's some sort of weird connection that he has to these people that won't allow him to let go of them. It's not exactly a bad thing, it just feels weird to care about people he doesn't really know. At least not that he remembers.

Curiosity takes over and he moves to stand by the window in time to see the beams go dark and hear the engine coming to a stop. It's just one car and he knows it's Lydia's because he saw it in her driveway when he was at her place three days ago. Did they all come together? Anticipation is killing him, and it doesn't help that they don't seem to be wanting to get out of the car.

Did they change their minds? Do they not want to do this anymore?

Before he can question himself to death, the front doors open simultaneously, and out come Scott and Lydia. He's surprised to see Scott on the driver's side. He likes that they're close enough to drive each other's cars. It says a lot about how much they trust each other. Did they use to drive the Jeep, too? Did he ever drive any of their cars? Or was it just Scott and Lydia who were that close? It's not time for stupid questions, he knows, but he can't help it.

Scott opens the back door, and Stiles expects Allison to come out, but instead, Scott ducks in and comes back out holding a brown paper bag

Before he has time to dwell on the fact that it seems to be just the two of them, his eyes find Lydia again, and he loses his train of thought. She's straightening out her clothes and she looks so small in her oversized shirt and braid down her back and lord he wants nothing but to go down and spend some time with her already. He's past the point of wondering how the hell he can care so much for a girl he's seen all of three times and had one conversation with.

She takes a step forward and Scott joins her. They stand frozen for a minute or two when Lydia suddenly looks up at him. Fuck, she's even more beautiful than he remembers. He's nervous and weird and he just waves at her awkwardly and pulls his face into what he hopes is a smile. This girl does weird things to him, and if this is how it was before he lost his memory, he's not sure how he made it through eight years of it. She smiles back and he's suddenly less nervous and more excited. In the darkness he can make out her lips moving and then Scott's looking up at him. Once again he's surprised at how easy it is to imagine that this boy is his best friend. The billion pictures of them together probably help a little, but somehow even without having talked to him yet, he knows that Scott is a good person, he knows that Scott is someone who cares, and he thinks he cares about him too.

Scott sends a smile his way and it's all Stiles needs before he leaves the window. He takes the stairs two at a time but then halts at the front door. He doesn't want to seem like a spazz, and the girl he supposedly loves and his best friend are literally on the other side, so he needs a minute to process. He's on second 26 of said minute when he hears the sound of the door being unlocked and _oh my god do they have a key?_

His eyes go wide and he takes a step back. He almost trips on the carpet before the door opens and he's facing Scott and Lydia. His arms are flailing as he tries to regain balance. It's so painfully familiar that Lydia and Scott can't help but share a look as Stiles tries to straighten up and brush it off.

"Hi," he manages to stammer after a moment looking from Lydia to Scott, fighting the urge to awkwardly wave at them again. Seriously, he needs to stop with the waving.

"Hi," Lydia says tugging on her sleeves and looking at him like he's the most fascinating thing she's seen.

"Hi." It's Scott's turn this time. He has a half smile on his face and a bag of groceries in hand and what is up with his jaw?

"Dude, your jaw's really weird." Holy shit did he just say that out loud? _Shit shit fuck shit_. His eyes go wide and he's about to apologize when Scott interrupts him.

"My jaw's weird? How about your nose, then?" Scott's mock offended look is ridiculous, and just like that it feels like a giant vacuum has literally sucked all of the tension out of the room.

"Oh my god," Lydia groans rolling her eyes and Stiles can't help but smile. She takes a step forward and he moves to let her in.

"Make yourself at home."

* * *

"Oh my god," she groans making her way inside the house and Stiles moves aside.

"Make yourself at home," she hears him say behind her.

Her knees almost buckle under the relief that floods her, but she keeps straight as she heads into the kitchen. She's trying to hide the big ass grin on her face, but she knows she's doing a horrible job at it.

She starts opening cabinets and getting stuff out but then she stops and goes to lean on the counter.

Stiles is looking at her in a way she doesn't understand and Scott is already raiding the fridge.

"Why'd you stop?"

"Um, I don't know. Maybe you're uncomfortable with random strangers making food in your kitchen," she says and she knows it's a stupid thought, but they've made more progress in five minutes than they made in a month and she's scared to do anything that might take them a step back.

Scott freezes when he hears her talk and he looks so ridiculous half into the fridge carrying twenty different condiments that they probably won't use. He takes a step back looking from Stiles to Lydia not sure what to do. "Sorry, I didn't think..." He stammers. "I c- I can put-"

"Ok I just told you to make yourself at home not five seconds ago," Stiles starts, interrupting Scott. "And this," he says pointing at each of them with a finger, "constitutes as making yourself at home." He's looking at Lydia whose grin keeps getting bigger by the second. "Also, I think we've already established the fact that you guys are not random strangers," he continues and Lydia feels the butterflies rioting in her stomach.

He moves to lean next to her on the counter while Scott approaches them and starts emptying his arms.

Lydia and Stiles' arms brush and Lydia has to look down to hide the blush on her face.

"I thought I heard something," the Sheriff's voice comes from right outside the kitchen as he makes his way in. "Hey guys," he says moving to ruffle Scott's hair and give Lydia a kiss.

"Hi Sheriff," Lydia replies smiling. She likes the Sheriff. A lot. And it's not just cause he's Stiles' dad. It's mostly cause he cares so much about his son, and by extension, his son's friends. And Lydia doesn't want to dismiss her father's role in her life, she loves her father, but he wasn't exactly there for her. So she likes it that she can act like the kid and not the parent around Sheriff Stilinski. She shudders, thinking of the last time he saved her from something, and the price they all had to pay for it. She touches the scar on her neck and then shakes the dark thought out of her head. Now is not the time for this.

She notices Stiles looking down at her, worry coloring his features, and she manages a reassuring smile. He moves a little closer to her, and their arms are now legitimately touching. This is the only form of comfort he can offer right now, and it's more than she's ever expected. The butterflies are now leading a full-on revolution.

"Hey Sheriff," Scott says putting the last of the stuff on the counter.

"I'm just here to get something to eat." He reaches out for a bag of chips on the counter.

"Dad you can't ea-"

"Sheriff you're not supp-"

"You shouldn't be eat-"

They all start speaking at the same time and the sheriff has to take a step back.

Lydia wants to laugh and Stiles is smiling, seemingly happy about this development. At least if anything ever happens to him, someone else will be there to stuff healthy food down his dad's throat.

It's Scott who gets the last word out.

"You're not supposed to eat this," he starts. "I'll make you a sandwich," he continues.

"When did you become the parent?" The Sheriff asks raising an eyebrow at Scott.

"Actually, it's Mrs. McCall who insisted we watch out for you," Lydia interjects and she's one step away from winking at him.

Stiles is looking at her slightly confused and she mouths "later". He nods and turns back to his father whose cheeks have turned a peach color.

"Alright, okay, well, you kids know your way, I'll be in my study if you need anything." He starts to walk towards the door. "Don't break anything," he yells once he's turned the corner.

Scott groans and Lydia laughs.

"So, him and your mom," Stiles starts to say, turning to rest his hands on the counter and look at Scott.

"They've been getting close," Scott says.

"And we're cool with that?" Stiles asks.

"I mean, we never really explicitly talked about it, but yeah. They're both good people and they care about each other, so why not."

"Good." Stiles is smiling. "I want my dad to be happy."

"And I want my mom to be happy."

They share a smile before Stiles starts going through the stuff on the counter.

"So are Allison, Isaac and Derek not coming?" Stiles asks. "Also, what's all this?"

"They'll be here in a bit, they just had some things to do," Scott replies. "Actually I was just thinking I could shoot them a text to check on them." He fishes his phone out of his pocket and looks at Lydia who nods his way.

"And this," she says gesturing to the stuff on the counter, "is everything we need for the snacks. We usually just make turkey and cheese sandwiches." She moves around Stiles to stand on his other side. She starts rifling through the jars Scott got out of the fridge. "Mayo for you and Scott, mustard for me, light mayo for the sheriff, barbecue sauce for Allison and Derek, and soy sauce for Isaac."

"Soy sauce with turkey?" Stiles can't hide the disgusted look on his face.

"We don't comment on Isaac's nasty eating habits," Lydia says failing to hide her disgust as well.

"What about the rest of the stuff?" Stiles asks pointing at the remaining jars and bottles on the counter. There's hot sauce, relish, ranch, a jar of sun-dried tomatoes, fig jam and peanut butter for some reason.

"Table decoration."

Stiles lets out a chuckle and starts emptying the contents of the paper bag. There's bread and butter, as well as turkey slices and cheese. The bottom of the bag is filled with candy. He fishes out a Mars bar and a bag of tortilla chips.

"And these?" He hold them out for Lydia to see.

"More snacks. Each of us has something we like best. We're not a very picky bunch usually, but when it comes to food, we're the worst."

He pulls out two packets of Reese's. "So these are mine, then."

"Actually, they're for the both of us," Lydia interjects shyly. Stiles looks at her likes he wants to kiss her. "It wasn't my favorite thing in the world until you got me addicted," she continues because she does not want any awkward silence today. "Now peanut butter cups are my life."

He smiles opening a pack and handing her one of the two cups.

"Thanks."

"So let me guess, the oyster chips are Isaac's?" Stiles says chewing on the chocolate.

"How'd you know?" Scott looks up after putting his phone back in his pocket.

"It's the most disgusting thing in the bag."

Stiles continues emptying the contents of the bag while Scott and Lydia laugh.

* * *

They make a game of it. While Lydia starts buttering the bread for the sandwiches, Scott and Stiles empty the content of the bag with Stiles trying to match the candy to the people. He ends up getting four right (the Oreos are Scott's, the Mars Bar Allison's, the tortilla chips Derek's and the popcorn is everyone's) out of seven (he is surprised to learn the second most disgusting item in the bag, licorice, is not in fact Isaac's but Allison's, and that the pack of cheese crackers is not Lydia's but Scott's. The biggest shocker however is that the sour sticks are not his but Lydia's. Scott explains to him that he swore them off after an incident in 4th grade that involved him, a bunch of idiot bullies, and the 3rd floor bathrooms at school).

Once they're done with the groceries, they move to help Lydia with the sandwiches. The three of them bicker as Lydia bosses the boys around, and it's comfortable and easily the best Stiles has felt since his accident, so much so that he can't help but marvel at how easy it is to fall back into old habits with Scott and Lydia, even when he doesn't necessarily remember said habits.

They've prepared the snacks and are about the take the Sheriff's sandwich to him when Stiles finally gathers the courage to ask what's been on his mind for the past thirty minutes.

"Hey, guys?"

"What's up?" Scott asks as both he and Lydia turn to look at their friend.

The worried look on Lydia's face is all Stiles can see and he tries to look as reassuring as possible.

"Can we go up to my room for a second? I need to show you something."

"Um, yeah, sure," Lydia says barely above a whisper. He doesn't like it that she looks so impossibly small because of him. "Let me just put the snacks in the fridge."

"I'm just gonna take this to your dad's study," Scott says moving with the Sheriff's plate in hand without waiting for their response.

Stiles smiles at Lydia who still looks worried. "It's nothing bad, I promise," he says because he can't help it, he doesn't like seeing her like that.

She manages a smile as they make their way out of the kitchen and up the stairs. The silence is not uncomfortable anymore and Stiles has the overwhelming urge to lace his fingers with Lydia's. He reaches out but wimps out at the last second and flexes his fingers instead. They can already hear Scott's footsteps getting closer. Stiles opens the door for Lydia and lets her in. She seems hesitant, but Stiles already knows it's not her first time in here. There are pictures to prove it. Speaking of which, the first thing she notices is the wall made up of pictures. Which is precisely what Stiles wanted to show them.

"Wow," Scott lets out as he makes his way into the room and goes to stand next to Lydia.

"What's all this?" She manages to let out in a hoarse voice. Her eyes are glistening with unshed tears and it bothers Stiles to no ends.

"This is what I wanted to show you guys," Stiles starts looking at the wall. "I, um, found these a few weeks ago, and I've been trying to go through them every day, hoping maybe some hint of a memory will flicker through," he continues. Both Scott and Lydia are alternating between looking at him and the photos. "I've accepted now that that's not going to happen." He hears Scott's sharp intake of breathe and notices a single tear roll down Lydia's cheek, and it takes all of his willpower not to go to her and wipe it away. "No, that's not a bad thing," he continues looking at Lydia urging her to understand. "Well it sort of is a bad thing, but not if I don't let it be, because I've already decided I trust you guys. I can't explain it, but there's something that's pulling me towards you, like a magnet or a tether or something."

It's Lydia's turn to gasp at the same time Scott turns to look at her.

"What?" Stiles asks.

"Nothing."

"It's obviously not nothing. What is it?" he insists because whatever it is, he wants to know.

Lydia can't seem to find her voice and Scott comes to her rescue. "It's just, we've heard this before."

"Um, okay?" Stiles furrows his brow because he still obviously doesn't understand.

"It's a really long story, Stiles, and we can talk about it later if you want, I promise," Lydia finds her voice and looks at Stiles, her eyes pleading.

"I'm gonna hold you to that promise," Stiles says, a hint of amusement in his voice. Lydia smiles at him and he already feels better. "Anyway, the point is, I can't remember, but I want to recreate the memories with you guys." He kind of expects the confused looks he gets. "The photos on the wall are divided into three different parts for a reason. These," he gestures towards the pictures at the right side of the wall, "are things I don't think I need to remember."

There are only about five pictures in this group. Two of them are pictures of him surrounded by a bunch of people with a birthday cake in front of him. He only recognizes Scott in both pictures, and he doesn't really think it necessary to remember birthdays anyway. He'll get more birthdays - hopefully - so he can make new memories then. Another two are of him in formal wear. He's on the arm of a blonde in one of them, and though she's kinda cute, she's not Lydia so he doesn't care. In the other one, he's with a group of people that includes Scott, Isaac, and Lydia, only she's holding on to some boy, and he really doesn't want to remember a time when she was with anyone else. The last one shows a group of people in lacrosse gear. He doesn't need to remember it, because pretty soon he'll get to experience it firsthand. He and his dad have been squeezing in practice time so he can still have a spot on the team when school starts. The sheriff has already cleared it with Coach Finstock.

"This second group," he continues moving to stand in front of the pictures on the far left, and he feels Scott and Lydia follow him, "is things that are still confusing to me. It's mostly people I don't recognize at all. Like them." He points at the picture he was looking at before they got here, the one with the pretty blonde and the hulk-like guy. "Who are they?"

"Erica and Boyd," Lydia answers and she has a sad look on her face. "They were part of Derek's pack."

"Were?"

"They're dead," Scott says.

"Oh." Once again, Stiles feels a sadness he can't understand. "Were we close?"

"Not at the beginning," Lydia says smiling at some memory. "But then we learned to care about them. They liked you a lot. Especially Erica."

Stiles smiles sadly. He probably liked them, too. He pulls the picture off the wall and moves to stick it with the ones on the far right. There's no point in remembering sad things, he's got enough of those in his life already.

He moves back to the left side and stares at the other pictures. He notices a picture of a boy with blue eyes and it hits him that this is the same boy on Lydia's arm in the other photo. He glances over at her and then moves to take the photo off the wall. He doesn't even go to the right side, just goes and throws it in the trash.

He can see Lydia trying to hide a smile and he hears Scott chuckle.

"You should probably add this one to the pile," Scott says, taking a photo of a set of twins off the wall and throwing it in the trash.

Lydia giggles and Stiles raises his eyebrows.

"Jesus, Lyds, both of them?"

He says it so naturally he doesn't even notice at first, but Lydia's suddenly wide eyes clue him in. _Lyds._

Lydia recovers from her shock and her smile mirrors his.

"No you idiot," she can't help but chuckle. "Ethan would more likely go for you."

"Have him give me a call, then," he lets out laughing and just like that, the tension is gone.

"Alright, Casanova," Scott says chuckling along with them. "So, what do the pictures in the middle stand for then?"

"Things I want to remember," he starts, but before the mood can darken again, he continues. "But like I said before, since I can't remember, I just thought maybe you guys could help me recreate these memories."

He'd been very nervous about asking this of them. He came to that decision the night he went to Lydia's. Right after he got back from her house, he sorted through the photos and decided to accept the fact that he would not remember. But he also decided that he did not want to let go of Lydia or the others even though he hadn't officially met them. So he'd ask them for their help. If they cared as much as they said, they would do it.

"I know you guys have things to do that don't involve me and you have lives and you probably look at all these pictures and think 'been there done that', and I almost didn't ask, you know, this is actually why I cancelled on you guys yesterday, because I chickened out, but I want to-"

"Oh my god, will you just shut up!" Scott interrupts before Stiles can get another word in. Even Lydia seems surprised at his outburst. "Christ, Stiles, you don't even have to ask," he continues, and Stiles has to admit this is not what he expected when he was so rudely interrupted. "I know you don't remember, but you've been my best friend since we were 4. Aside from killing my mom, there is literally nothing that you could ask that I wouldn't do for you."

Stiles can't help the smile that creeps up his face. It's sappy and cheesy and the nicest thing anyone's ever said to him. "Thanks."

"Just, don't make a big deal out of it," Scott says ducking his head and scratching the back of his neck nervously. "Lyds, you in?" He turns towards Lydia probably to deflect the attention off himself. She's looking at them with the goofiest smile on her face.

"Are you seriously asking me that question?" She raises her eyebrows, and for a split second Stiles is worried she doesn't want to do it. "We're already getting a head start, you know," she continues turning towards the wall. Stiles and Scott move to flank her on each side.

"Let me guess, tonight we're recreating this photo, right?" Stiles asks pointing at the picture he's been wanting to remember the most.

The middle section is actually the one with the most pictures. About 20 or so, and Stiles had to really fight the urge not to just shove all the pictures in the center and tell them he wanted to remember literally everything. He'd eventually settled on putting up everything with both Scott and Lydia in it, along with some other pictures that looked worth remembering. He has three favorites: The one he is currently pointing at, another where he and Allison are sitting under a tree in the woods their backs on the trunk engrossed in something they're reading while Lydia and Isaac stand to their right looking at a phone in Lydia's hand, and a third picture of Lydia and Allison tucked under the blankets in his bed seemingly in hysterics, with Scott laying horizontally at their feet striking a very on point Cleopatra pose. His third favorite has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that Lydia is tucked into his bed. Nope. Not at all.

"Oh my god, look at Derek's face," Lydia laughs nodding.

Scott and Stiles laugh along with her when they hear a soft knock on the door. Allison's head peaks in, a shy smile on her face.

"Hi, sorry, um, we just- I just wanted to let you guys know we're here," she manages to stutter looking from Lydia to Scott to Stiles back and forth. "Your, um, dad, he let us in."

"Yeah, sure, sure," Stiles stammers and the nervousness is back but the smile on his face is genuine.

It's a bit awkward as he and Allison stand quietly looking at each other before she seemingly can't stand the silence anymore.

"Sorry, I don't know what to do," she says honestly half hiding her face with one of her hands, and Stiles can see why Scott likes her so much. "Should I, like, introduce myself?"

"Please don't," Stiles laughs breathing a sigh of relief because she's just as awkward about this as he is. "You're Allison, you're a kick ass hunter, you're her best friend," he points at Lydia, "and I've been told you're one of mine as well."

"Yeah," Allison manages to get out, a smile plastered on her face.

"Also, you like licorice which is really disgusting." Wow, he's on a roll today, isn't he?

"Says the boy who eats caramel sauce with French fries!" Allison shoots back instantly and both Scott and Lydia snicker.

"Ugh, do I really do that?" Stiles asks with a grossed out look on his face as he makes to move out of the room.

"Yes!" All three of them answer but only Allison moves to follow him out.

Scott and Lydia stand for a few more seconds staring at the wall.

"We're getting our boy back," Scott says and Lydia smiles before they follow their friends out.

* * *

It takes Stiles all of five seconds to get used to Isaac. It takes him even less to get used to Derek.

Since Stiles is the guest of honor, they decide to watch Star Wars (as many as they can squeeze in in one night). So what if it's technically his house.

Stiles shares the couch with Lydia and Allison, and he has to take a second to process because if sitting sandwiched between two beautiful girls is what his life is like, then he can get used to it. The only downside is that he barely manages to focus on the movie, what with him and Lydia sitting so close on the small couch, their arms and legs touching. And sharing peanut butter cups.

Scott and Isaac settle on the floor, and Derek alternates between watching the movie with them and sitting with the sheriff in his study.

It's comfortable and easy and so much fun and Stiles thinks his life was kinda awesome.

Just as Lydia predicted, Mr. Argent and Mrs. McCall make an appearance sometime around 11pm. Stiles gets up to greet them and get properly introduced (which is really unnecessary). Mr. Argent shakes his hand before going to find his father, while Mrs. McCall stands a minute longer, blinking back tears. Stiles decides he likes them.

They all leave around midnight. Stiles doesn't want them to, but he knows he should take things slow, because although he meant it when he said he wants to know them, he understands that he can still get overwhelmed.

He hugs Melissa and Allison goodbye and Scott teaches him their secret handshake. Which, as Lydia points out, is not so secret when done so in public. Speaking of Lydia, she's the last one on his doorstep. Scott waits for her in the car. Isaac leaves with Melissa so she doesn't have to drive alone at such a late hour.

Stiles makes Lydia promise to text him when she's home, and he gathers the courage to kiss her cheek before she leaves. He has the biggest, dumbest grin on his face, and he sees her roll her eyes and flush at something Scott says when she gets in the car. They both wave at him before they drive off.

* * *

He's in his room, still grinning like an idiot when he gets her text.

_Home safe. I had fun tonight. I hope you did too._

He has half a mind to call her. The things this girl does to him. And he barely knows her. He settles on texting her back.

_More than you know. Can I see you tomorrow?_

She texts back not even a minute later.

_Yes._


	3. Chapter 3

**So, here goes chapter 3! I'm really sorry for the delay, but my sister gave birth on Tuesday, and I am so completely in love with my nephew I can barely let him go. He's the first baby in the family, and I think anyone with kids/nephews and nieces can understand how I feel. **

**Anyway, I am not completely satisfied with this chapter, but I didn't wanna make you guys wait any longer. Maybe I'll edit it tomorrow and post a revised version after. Maybe not. Anyway, enjoy!**

* * *

_Yes._

She's grinning like an idiot when she hits the send button. She's having a hard time believing all of this is real. He actually wants to see her again.

True, he told her as much when he first came to her house, but when he cancelled on their plans Friday night, she really thought this would be it for good. Then he texted her on Saturday morning asking if they could come over that night instead, and she wanted to believe so badly, yet she was still convinced he would eventually cancel.

But he didn't. And she just got back from his house, and he kissed her before she left, and he wants to see her again. Her heart's beating so fast, she'd be worried if she wasn't so happy.

She's afraid to even blink because then maybe she'll open her eyes to realize all of this is a figment of her imagination, and that Stiles still does not know or care who she is.

She'd smiled like an idiot the whole ride back home. The fact that Scott was smiling like an idiot as well didn't help. The night had gone so much better than they'd expected, they could hardly believe it.

She snaps out of her daze, the smile still plastered on her face. Her room is a mess, since she went through her closet like a hurricane when she'd been trying to pick an outfit earlier. She should maybe tidy up a bit, pick some clothes off the floor or something before she goes to bed, but she can't be bothered to. She brushes her teeth, throws on one of Stiles' shirts, and gets under the covers.

She closes her eyes, and all she can see is Stiles. Stiles looking at her through his bedroom window. Stiles standing next to her by the kitchen counter. Stiles throwing away Jackson's picture. Stiles sitting next to her so impossibly close on the living room couch, sharing his chocolate with her, and how he'd smiled at her when she woke up after she'd dozed off, her head on his shoulder, his arm tentatively reaching across her back.

She falls asleep thinking of Stiles' lips, and how they lingered just a split second longer than necessary, and how his fingers clutched hers lightly when he leaned in to press a kiss against her cheek.

* * *

Stiles jolts awake, drenched in his own sweat, barely able to catch his breath. He looks around for a second, panic clouding his vision, before he jumps to pick up his phone off his bedside table to check his messages. His last text is from Lydia, and it's all he can do not to cry in relief.

It was just a nightmare. But it felt so so real. He doesn't know which was worse, the hairy beasts chasing him which he knew to be Scott, Isaac and Derek, Allison shooting at him with a gun over and over again, or Lydia's distorted screams. He also vaguely remembers seeing a figure so frightfully disturbing, its bald head and burn scars taunting him as it chased him through the woods. He woke up just in time to avoid its claws.

He clutches the phone tightly to his side, Lydia's messages the only thing grounding him to reality.

He's finally able to breathe when he decides to get up. He can see from his window the first lights of dawn. He won't be getting any more sleep.

He hops in the shower, letting the scolding water relax his muscles. His mind wanders to the night before, and he remembers Lydia's blush and Allison's infectious laugh and Scott's excitement and Isaac's ridiculous comments and even Derek and the amusement he tries so hard to hide, and Stiles feels the tension draining out of his body, a sense of calm washing over him.

He allows himself another twenty minutes before he gets out of the shower. He's not going out until later, so he throws on a pair of sweats and and a t-shirt before heading downstairs.

He checks the clock on his way to the kitchen. 6:15. His dad will be up soon. It's his first real day back at the station. He'd been on a semi-vacation since Stiles had his accident, only answering to urgent calls, and even then he made sure to always take Stiles with him. But after some roping from Stiles, he's finally accepted that he needs to get back to work.

Stiles turns on the coffee machine and gets started on breakfast. He's already put some bread in the toaster and cracked the eggs when he notices the leftover oyster chips on the counter. He's disgusted and amused all at once.

He hears footsteps getting closer just as he's spooning the scrambled eggs into two plates. He's happy to see the surprised smile on his dad's face when he enters the kitchen.

"You're up early."

"Good morning to you too," Stiles shoots back.

"Morning, son," the sheriff says flashing his pearly whites. "I just wasn't expecting you to be up and churning at 6am," he continues. "It smells really good in here."

"There's fresh coffee," Stiles says pointing at the coffee machine. He doesn't want to make a big deal out of this, because it's not a big deal. He's just making breakfast.

He sets the plates on the kitchen island then moves to pull out a couple of forks while his dad pours them coffee. He burns his fingers when he pulls the toast out, but then again, he always burns his fingers when the toaster is involved.

"This is really good," the sheriff says, scooping a spoonful of eggs in his mouth and sitting down on the high stool.

"I know," Stiles barely manages to get out as he stuff his face with eggs and then takes a bite out of his toast.

They're quiet for a few more minutes before the sheriff breaks the silence.

"So, last night went well," he starts casually.

Stiles may have lost his memory, but he still knows his father far too well. He's trying to get him to talk without pushing him. And Stiles likes that. He's comfortable around his dad.

"Yeah, it was," Stiles starts, taking a sip of coffee. "A lot better than I expected."

His dad smiles. "And did it trigger anything?"

"Not really, but I don't mind it as much anymore. I mean, sure, it would be awesome to remember more about Scott and Lydia and Derek, but it's not crippling anymore."

"Yeah?"

"Yep," Stiles replies.

The sheriff smiles again. "So, any plans for today?" He asks, taking another bite of his toast.

"Um, yeah. I'm probably gonna meet Lydia or something." Stiles tries to go for casual, but the blush that suddenly colors his cheeks gives him away.

"I guess some things never change," his dad says sending a knowing smile his way.

"What are you talking about?" Yeah, okay, so he's feigning ignorance.

"I'm talking about the fact that Lydia was and always will be your number one priority, memory or no memory," the sheriff states and Stiles blushes a darker shade of crimson. "It's only right that she's finally come to her senses. It took her some time, but she's finally there."

"What are you talking about?" Is it getting hot in here? "Lydia and I are just friends, I mean, I barely even know her."

"Uh-huh."

"I'm serious!" And he is serious, because it's not possible to care about someone you've known for less than a week that much. So he doesn't like her. Not that way. The fact that he's barely thought about anything other than her this entire week is another issue completely.

"Alright, alright, I believe you," his dad says, getting up and heading to the sink. He looks like he doesn't believe him. "Thanks for breakfast."

"Oh, it's nothing," Stiles brushes it off glad for the change of topic as he helps his dad with the dishes.

"I have to head out. Are you sure you'll be fine?"

"Stop worrying, I lost my memory, not my common sense! I'll be okay. I'm going out soon anyway."

"Eager, are we?" His dad can't help but comment as they walk out of the kitchen and Stiles resists the urge to roll his eyes.

"Bye dad," he says as he makes his way up the stairs to his room.

"Bye son! Don't have too much fun."

Stiles is sure half of beacon hills heard him groan. He listens for the door and plops down on his bed when he hears it slam.

It's still barely 7 and he's home alone. He still doesn't know what his plans for the day are, but he does know they involve Lydia. He made sure of that last night.

His mind wanders back to the night before and he can't help the smile that takes over his face. It was a good night. He learned a lot of things about his friends, like how Lydia never makes it through and entire movie night without falling asleep on someone's shoulder - Scott let it casually slip that it was almost always on his shoulder and Stiles tried very hard not to blush when he looked down at Lydia to see her head slowly making its way down said shoulder - and how Allison snorts a little when she laughs, and how Scott prefers the floor to the couch, and how Isaac is a little emotionally scarred but he prefers to laugh about it, and how Derek's way more into Star Wars than he lets on.

He feels himself slowly sinking further into his mattress and allows sleep to take over him. He wakes up 3 hours later to the sound of his phone ringing. It's his dad, checking up on him. He finishes his call, cleans himself up again, and gets dressed. He's glad he still likes plaid because his closet is full of it and not much else.

It's still relatively early by the time he's done, but he's too anxious to stay at home and he's already made plans for the day when he was brushing his teeth. At least plans for the morning.

He picks up his phone and dials the number he wants.

"Stiles?" She answers on the third ring, a surprised yet cheerful air to her voice.

"Hey, Allison, " Stiles says feeling awkward.

Allison's a great girl, and she's his friend, but it's the first time he'a talking to her on the phone, and while they had an amazing time the night before, it's gonna take him some time to get used to her. But he might as well start now.

"Hey," she replies. There's a moment of silence. "Are you okay?" He hears her say, and he can actually tell a sudden panic's taken over her.

"Yeah, yeah, don't worry, I'm good," he reassures her quickly.

"Good, good." She lets out an audible sigh of relief. "So, um, do- um, did you have a good time last night?"

"I did, yeah. For a bunch of strangers, you people are fun." He knows it's a bad time to try and make a joke, but he's Stiles Stilinski, and memory or no memory, he makes bad jokes when he's nervous.

"Oh."

"Sorry." He cringes. "I'm sorry, I was just trying to lighten the mood." He can hear her let out a nervous laugh. "Did you have a good time?"

"Yeah, yeah, I did, of course," Allison assures him and he feels relief flood through him. "I missed us hanging out all together, so hopefully it was good for you, too."

"It was," he repeats. "Hey, Allison, I was actually calling because I wanted to ask you something else."

"Sure, anything."

* * *

Lydia's about to get into the shower when her doorbell rings. She's home alone so it's not like she can ignore it.

"One second!" She yells as she heads down the stairs. She's not expecting anyone, but she's used to people coming over unexpected, especially since the whole werewolf/banshee/all-kinds-of-weird-shit-going-on- in-beacon-hills situation was revealed to her.

She stops for a second when she's in front of the door to catch her breath before she opens it.

To say that she is surprised would be an understatement.

Stiles stands there in a purple plaid shirt and his favorite sneakers. He's got a carton tray with 2 coffees in one hand, a small brown paper bag in the other and a nervous smile on his face.

True, they'd agreed to do something together today, but Lydia did not think something would mean Stiles showing up at her doorstep with what looks like breakfast. She feels her heart swell. He looks so good she just wishes she could kiss him of hug him or something. Any form of contact would be okay right about now.

She panics for a second when she realizes she looks like a mess. She's wearing his hoodie again, with not much else under, and a pair of shorts. Her feet are bare, her hair is messy and loose around her shoulders and she's got no makeup on. This is the second time in less than a week that she looks like a complete mess around him. Ugh. And it doesn't help that he looks so good with his longer hair. When did she start thinking Stiles is the hottest piece of ass around town?

She notices his eyes take in her bare legs, and she smiles to herself when he swallows loud and nervous. Good to know this still works in her favor.

"H-Hi," he stammers.

"Stiles." She feels the corner of her lips pull up higher as she processes the fact that Stiles is at her front door at 11 in the morning. "Hi." The smile is slowly taking over her face and she worries for a wild second about scaring him with a grin too wide. But his own smile seems to be growing to slowly match hers.

They stand there for about 18 seconds staring at one another unsure of what to say as is apparently their tradition, before Stiles breaks the silence.

"I brought coffee," he announces awkwardly holding the tray higher, "and breakfast," he continues and raising his other arm. "Which is sort of useless now because you probably already ate breakfast so you can just say no and I won't feel bad I swear, don't worry it's okay, I'll eat it myself. Dammit, I should've called or texted or stayed ho-"

"Stiles!" Lydia yells interrupting. "I haven't had breakfast yet."

The confusion and panic give way to relief which turns into another smile and Lydia feels something squeeze at her heart again.

"Good. Cause I got bagels."

Lydia stands aside as Stiles makes his way inside. She takes the bag and the tray from him.

"Did you, um, how did you know?" Lydia asks, and she doesn't have to elaborate because he already knows what she's asking.

"I wish I could say I remembered they're your favorite, but I didn't. I just called Allison and she told me. Which is how I also knew to get your coffee with cream and extra caramel."

She wants to be disappointed, but Stiles is at her house with coffee and bagels just for her, and he called Allison to make sure he got her everything she likes, so does it really matter?

"Besides, next time, I'll be able to say I remembered," he continues as they make their way into the living room.

_Next time._

The smile on her face is so wide, she wonders if her face might split in two. In a moment of foolish bravery, she turns around suddenly and stands on the tip of her toes to plant a kiss on Stiles' cheek. He's taller than she anticipates and she reaches his jaw instead. He's surprised by her sudden attack and he has to steady himself. His hands end up on her elbows in a miserable attempt to regain his footing. They're both blushing.

"What was that for?" Stiles asks in a voice barely above a whisper. He can't seem to break eye contact, and neither can she. They don't move.

"Just, because. But mostly thank you," she replies worried she might freak him out.

He smiles in return and she feels herself relax. Neither seems to want to move. She can feel Stiles' fingers tugging gently at the ends of her long hair. It feels so impossibly good, but suddenly she is reminded that this is a boy who up until three days ago wanted nothing to so with her, so she would do her well not to overestimate him. She takes a step back and clears her throat, then turns to put the food on the table.

"Weird question, but is this mine?" Stiles asks a moment later pointing at her hoodie.

Lydia's startled for a second and her eyes widen. She looks like a deer caught in headlights.

"Yes." Her voice is small as she hands him his coffee. "How'd you know?"

"I don't know. It looks a little familiar for some reason. Also, I would buy it if I saw it in a shop right now."

"Oh." She doesn't know how to react. "Do you want it back?" She starts undoing the zipper.

"Oh my god, no!" Stiles practically yells lunging to put his hand on hers to get her to stop. "That's not what I meant," he chuckles and his hand lingers a second longer than necessary.

Lydia moves to sit on the couch and Stiles follow suit, taking a seat opposite her on the armchair.

"So did I give it to you, or did I forget here...?"

She's relieved by his question. he wants memories. So she'll gladly give him some.

She takes out one of the bagels from the bag and hands it to him. She starts munching on the other.

"You gave it to me. You, um, didn't explicitly tell me I could keep it, but you never asked for it back and I never got around to returning it," she continues and smiles sheepishly.

Stiles raises his eyebrows seemingly amused, chewing on his bagel.

"It was a couple of months before your accident," she explains. "We were on a school trip. Well, you and Scott and Isaac were on a school trip, Allison and I were just freakishly stalking you guys." She rolls her eyes and Stiles lets out a chuckle. He has a sort of glow in his eyes and Lydia can tell he's trying to place the memory somewhere in that fascinating brain of his.

"Really?" He asks amusement still evident in his voice.

"Yeah, well, Scott was injured and Allison wanted to make sure he was okay. Mind you, they were already broken up at the time, but I told you their relationship is way too complicated to understand. Anyway we followed you guys in Allison's car until you called me to update us."

"Update you?"

"Yep, because apparently you knew we were following you all along. We just thought we were being so sneaky."

He chuckles again.

"After that things started to get complicated. Allison managed to fix up Scott's wound, but her tank was empty so we rode on the bus with you guys. We stayed at some creepy motel and all sorts of weird shit started to go down." She takes another bite of her bagel. "Isaac spent the night holed up under his bed, Boyd tried to drown himself, Ethan - one of the twins - tried to saw himself in half. The worst though, was Scott." She can't help the tears that threaten to come out as she remembers that night. It was hell and not much else.

"Why, what'd he do?"

"Well, we figured out something was manipulating our friends and noticed that the only thing to snap them out of their trance was heat. So we used some flares for that. Only when we went back to get one for Scott, he had beat us to it. We found him standing in a pool of gasoline with a lit flare in his hand, mumbling about how nothing was worth it." A tear rolls down her cheek but she quickly wipes it away. That was one of the worst days of her life. She looks at Stiles and notices his red-rimmed eyes. He might not remember them, but he still cares.

"How'd we get him to snap out of it?"

"We didn't. You did. I stood frozen unable to do anything. Allison tried to talk to him but he wouldn't listen. He only responded to you. You told him how much you loved him and that you guys were there for each other no matter what. You reminded him how you were brothers. And then you did the single most idiotic thing on record. You stepped into the puddle with him." She stops, taking another breath, and she can't keep her voice from shaking. She still wakes up in the middle of the night swearing she can smell gasoline. When Stiles had stepped into that puddle, she'd felt her heart break into a million pieces. If anything happened to him...

"He snapped out of it after that?" Stiles asks, his voice sad.

"You, um, took the flare out of his hand and threw it away. You almost died anyway when it rolled right back to where the puddle started, but I pushed you out of the way in time." Her voice breaks but then she clears her throat and pulls herself together. No need for a breakdown. Stiles is safe. He's alive. And he's looking at her like she's the most amazing thing ever. "I couldn't lose you," she tries to explain, suddenly uncomfortable with his eyes on her. "Neither of you."

"Thanks," Stiles lets out gently.

She wipes her eyes and eats the last of her bagel. "In the end, we learned the Darach was behind it. We couldn't go back to our rooms after that. We were too on edge, and we didn't want to have to separate, so we spent the night in the school bus. It was cold so you gave me your hoodie." She smiles at the memory.

Stiles is silent for a minute before he starts again. "Hey, Lydia? She looks up at him. "What did the Darach look like?" When she only raises her eyebrows he continues. "I just keep having these dreams, nightmares really, with all sorts of weird distorted creatures chasing me down. Sometimes they're you guys, and other times they're real evil, but they're always scary."

He sounds like a little child and Lydia fights he urge to go to him wrap her arms around him. He's having nightmares about his friends killing him. She would too, if she just found out her friends were mythological creatures she knew nothing about. That's just the problem though. Stiles knows nothing about them aside from what they are. Which is probably why he's picturing all sorts of weird monsters. And suddenly Lydia knows what to do.

"You don't have any plans for the rest of the day, do you?" Lydia asks and Stiles looks up at her confused.

"I was gonna see if you wanted to go somewhere but if you're busy..."

"No, no, not at all," Lydia gets out hurriedly. "I just have an idea what we can do. Do you mind waiting for me while I hop in the shower real quick?"

"Not at all," Stiles says smiling.

Lydia hands him the TV controller and starts heading up the stairs. "I won't be long. Make yourself at home!" She yells and Stiles smiles to himself.

* * *

"What is this place?" Stiles asks getting out of the jeep. Lydia wouldn't tell him where they were going, she just kept throwing directions at him.

"Derek's old home," Lydia explains hopping out of the jeep. Stiles is there to help her regain her footing, and she sends him a shy smile when her hand ends up in his. He should maybe let go of her hand but he doesn't want to. She doesn't seem too keen on letting go either.

"Did you bring me here to rape me?" He asks because he doesn't have a filter and they're in the middle of the woods by some creepy half burned house that looks haunted by some seriously messed up ghosts.

"Oh my god," Lydia lets out chuckling and Stiles' grin is back on his face.

He's about to get a proper grip on her hand when they hear the sound of an engine approaching. Lydia lets go and Stiles feels his world darken just a little. Not for the first time, he wonders how this one girl can have so much effect on him.

He shakes the thought out of his head and turns to look at the car parking next to his jeep. Scott, Allison, Isaac and Derek get out and Stiles already feels a little better.

"Hey guys," Scott says approaching them.

"Heard you had a nice breakfast," Isaac teases winking at Lydia who blushes furiously. Stiles has the sudden urge to look at his feet. Scott and Allison snicker and Derek rolls his eyes.

"What are we doing here?" Derek asks, business as usual.

Everyone turns to look at Lydia. She's the one who planned this.

"Um, I called you guys here because I think we should show our true selves to Stiles," she explains. The confused looks she gets don't really surprise her. "We were talking this morning," she tries again, "and I realized Stiles has no idea what you guys look like when you've turned, or how my powers work, or about the Argents' code. He knows only what the Sheriff has told him, and let's face it, he was kept in the dark for so long he literally doesn't know the half of it. And I mean, if I were Stiles and I knew my friends grew fangs every now and then, I would imagine all kinds of weird shit until I actually saw them transform."

Recognition finally dawns on everyone. Scott nods and Allison smiles a little. Derek doesn't even blink which usually means he's in.

Stiles just wants to hug Lydia because this is the most perfect thing he could've asked for without actually asking. He's been itching to learn more about them ever since his dad told him everything. He's also relieved Lydia didn't tell them about the nightmares. He looks at her and she sends a small smile his way. He wonders again how this girl understands him so well.

"So what do we do?" Isaac asks and Stiles snaps out of his thoughts and turns away from Lydia. "Do we just transform?"

"I guess," Lydia says. "I mean I brought you guys here because I thought we could also tell him about everything that happened from the very beginning. Then you guys can show him your freaky hairy selves, Allison will explain to him about her family, and I'll try to explain what my powers entail, or the little I understand about them myself."

"Sounds fair," Scott says smiling. Allison moves back to the car. "Where do we start?"

Allison comes back with her bow and a blanket. She drops the bow by a big tree and lays the blanket on the ground. "We start by getting comfortable," she says moving to sit down.

Everyone follows suit. Stiles ends up sitting his back to the trunk, Lydia right by his side. They're so close their arms are touching and he wouldn't have it any other way. He still can't explain the relief he feels whenever she's next to him, but he's decided to stop questioning it. Whatever this girl is to him, she seems to be doing something right. He's comfortable when he's with her, and happy and relieved and he can almost believe that he's known her his whole life. So he might as well enjoy it.

He looks at her while everyone settles around them. She's busy fixing up the blanket and Stiles can't stop himself from taking her hand in his and giving it a gentle squeeze. Lydia looks at him, startled, but she relaxes visibly when she notices the smile on his face. She returns both smile and squeeze, and when she lets go of his hand, she keeps hers so close to his their knuckles are touching. Stiles can't remember feeling so good in a long time.

* * *

They've been at it for over an hour now, and Lydia hasn't felt so relaxed in a really long time. Not since before Stiles' accident.

They're still seated on the forest ground, with Scott talking animatedly. Lydia has long given up on pretending she doesn't want to sit by Stiles, and her head has fallen on his shoulder more than once. She's sitting straighter now, but their arms are almost linked, Stiles' fingers ghosting over Lydia's wrist and it's like a million butterflies have taken residence in her stomach.

They've already covered almost everything, and Lydia was surprised to hear some stuff she didn't even know herself, like the fact that Stiles had stayed at the hospital the entire time she was there after Peter bit her, or how Stiles was actually gonna lose his virginity to Heather the night she was taken. She feels an inexplicable flush at the first revelation, and an inexplicable jealousy at the second.

Scott, Isaac and Derek all transformed earlier, Allison gave Stiles a crash course on the Argents, and Lydia shared her limited knowledge on banshees.

They're down to the last few hours before Stiles' accident, and Scott is explaining all about the sacrifices. Lydia's not really listening, her mind assaulted with memories of dimly lit locker rooms and stolen kisses on dirty floors. She can't stop thinking about soft lips on hers and heavy eyes peeking at her through long eyelashes. What she wouldn't give to go back to that day.

"So the tether was supposed to be able to pull you back from the darkness. And Deaton insisted it be someone you're connected to on a deeper level," Scott continues explaining, snapping Lydia back to reality. "Deaton was mine, Allison's was Isaac, and yours was Lyds."

Lydia takes a peek at Stiles. A look of recognition flashes through his eyes.

"This is why we were slightly surprised when you mentioned the tether thing yesterday," she says in a low voice.

"We think maybe the tether thing is not exclusive to the sacrifice ritual," Scott explains. "Isaac has pulled Allison out of some dark thoughts more than once already, and then you mentioned the pull you felt towards us, so we've seen manifest itself on more than one occasion."

"That makes a lot of sense, actually," Stiles says. "And honestly, no offence to anyone but the pull towards Lydia is the strongest, so you're probably right."

Stiles' fingers push harder on Lydia's wrist and she flushes against her will.

"Can't say I'm really surprised," Isaac mutters earning himself an elbow in the ribs from Allison.

"Anyway, as we've said, the ritual worked. We died and came back with the location of the Nemeton. You were actually on your way there when you had the accident."

The silence hangs heavy with sadness. Lydia and Scott share a look. She knows what he's not saying out loud. _You were actually on your way there when we lost you._ Almost lost him, Lydia has to remind herself, because Stiles is next to her and the feel of his knuckles bumping hers is too real for it to be a dream.

"Well, I'm starving," Allison announces suddenly. "Who's up for lunch?"

* * *

Half an hour later, Stiles finds himself tucked into a corner booth at the local diner with Lydia by his side, Allison and Scott sharing the opposing bench.

Derek decided not to go with them as he had some stuff to do with Chris and was gonna try to catch Cora on Skype after. Isaac was all down for lunch until he heard the word Cora at which point his whole demeanor changed and he suddenly felt it was necessary for him to go with Derek on his errand. No one really commented on that, so Stiles assumed no one noticed. Scott gave Derek his keys and he and Allison rode in with him and Lydia.

"So this was our favorite hangout?" Stiles asks taking a sip from his soda.

"For food? Absolutely," Allison replies smiling. "You'll see, they have the best curly fries."

"They're actually your favorite thing on the menu," Lydia adds.

"Don't pretend like they're not yours, too!" Allison throws at Lydia.

"This is actually where we discovered that Allison and Lydia eat actual greasy food like the rest of humanity," Scott says and Stiles can't help but chuckle.

"Hey, just because you stuff your face any chance you get, doesn't mean the rest of humanity has to do it as well," Lydia retorts instantly and Scott laughs.

"Just so you know, you're not missing on anything," Allison says to Stiles. "This is the exact same argument they have literally every time we're here."

"And when was the last time we were here?" Stiles asks.

"I think it was a week before your accident," Lydia says. "It was after that Lacrosse game against Eastwood, right?" She asks turning to Scott and Allison.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm pretty sure that was it." Scott agrees.

"You kicked ass in that by the way," Lydia says proudly looking at Stiles.

"In what, the Lacrosse game?"

"Yep. You were so good, you actually scored the winning shot," she continues, her pride showing.

Stiles' grin grows bigger and he reaches for her hand under the table. He links his fingers through hers and he feels 12 again. She doesn't let go and he can barely contain himself.

"Here we are," the waitress says coming out of nowhere and Stiles can barely stop himself from jumping off his seat. He doesn't let go of Lydia.

The waitress doesn't even ask who ordered what, and instead starts laying out the plates for them. They obviously come here a lot more than he imagines.

He reluctantly lets go of Lydia's hand when it's time to eat, but his bitterness only lasts a few second because damn this place really does have the best curly fries.

They all dig into their food like there's no tomorrow, and Stiles finds himself wishing for more days like this. He really, really, really likes his friends. Fangs and hunting bows and all. His BBQ-bacon burger is also probably the best he's had in his entire life. And the shake. And Lydia's mushroom 'n swiss burger. And Scott's chili cheese fries.

They shares desert after that and hang out at the diner for a couple of hours, talking like they've been friends forever, and Stiles has to remind himself that they have been friends forever, he just happened to forget.

He links his fingers back with Lydia's after they're done eating, this time for all the world to see. He doesn't care. Scott and Allison only act surprised for a moment before the smiles return to their faces, wider than before, and they continue their story about that horrific night at the school when Peter had them cornered in until dawn.

He can't explain it, maybe it's the tether thing, but any form of contact with Lydia makes him feel instantly better. That is the excuse he'll give for his sudden boldness anyway.

She doesn't seem to mind it either, and he can feel her fingers drawing nameless shapes in his palm.

They get up to leave around 5, and Stiles almost asks them to stay longer. He chickens out at the last second though because he doesn't wanna push his luck.

They drive Allison home first, and then Stiles finds himself in Lydia's driveway. Scott's house is closer to his, so he'll be dropping him off last. Stiles gets out of the car and walks Lydia up to her door. They're both nervous and fidgety and Stiles wonders if he'll ever get used to feeling this way.

"So, um, sorry for showing up out of nowhere on your doorstep today," he stammers.

"Don't be," Lydia replies immediately. "I had a really good time." She's looking at him nervously with a hesitant smile on her face.

"I guess, um, I'll see you tomorrow." He wants to kiss her. Like actually really kiss her. But Scott is watching. And should he really be kissing a girl he's met less than a week ago?

Lydia doesn't allow him more time to wonder what he should do and instead gets on her tiptoes and plants a kiss at the corner of his mouth. Stiles smiles dumbly at her as she takes out her keys.

"Call me," she whispers as she opens her door.

Stiles starts to back off her porch, the stupid grin taking over his face. Their eyes meet and it's all he can do not to go back and kiss her properly. "Bye," he says instead, waving at her and backing off.

"Bye," Lydia replies feeling giddy.

Stiles and Scott wave at Lydia once more when Stiles gets into his car.

"Smooth," Scott teases and Stiles rolls his eyes before he drives off.


End file.
